Treacherous Liaisons
by Ayngel
Summary: New take on the G1 "Traitor" episode. Part of "Forbidden Fantasies" continuum, Mirage and Skywarp's affair is powering. Meanwhile Starscream's losing it, the insecticons are plotting, CJ has it in for Mirage and Hound's in love. Much angst/fluff/slash
1. Chapter 1

**Treacherous Liaisons

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**By Ayngel

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_Disclaimer: I do not own transformers, or any of the characters or concepts within. I make no money from this story or any other about Transformers.

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_**Precursor** ..... He hadn't told Hound how their secret meetings were getting longer, fierier, more impassioned and harder to end with each passing occasion; hadn't told him how the Seeker was getting more and more obsessed with him and he with the Seeker. The late night, anguished com calls, the excuses to leave the Ark, the secret meetings, the frantic lovemaking, the lies when he returned and the terrible fear which swept his circuits every time he saw Skywarp, that this time would be the last....

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This is the first chapter of the retelling of the G1 "Traitor" episode. It kicks off with a pretty hot sequence but isn't all just lust (sorry) there is a story to it (which is a bit different from the version we watched on TV) I'm also writing a sequel, "the Nest" and I am still working on it.

It is part of the Forbidden Fantasies continuum. It's taking a while for M and S to get it on in that and maybe this is posting is a result of my own impatience! It's a demo of what there is to look forward to in that.

Anyway, thanks again to my readers and reviewers. Enjoy ...

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_Warnings: Adult themes, acts by mechanical beings analogous to same sex sexual intercourse ie slash, self stimulation,**actual slash**

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**Chapter 1**

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Mirage trudged across the arid landscape, his feet crunching softly and leaving indentations in the soft sand. Above, the Earth sun blasted mercilessly down from a clear blue sky. Panting slightly as he strode along, his sensors registered reduced coolant levels and his air intakes recycled at above normal rates in an effort to compensate for the heat generated by the sun and the effort. Panels burned, hot to touch and a few microscopic ripples were appearing in his paintwork. These itched and irritated, and would under normal circumstances have received immediate attention, but today the Alphamech was so preoccupied with other data that he barely noticed.

He had been out here for days now, ever since the Decepticons had raided a research laboratory over east and had stolen some solar energy cells. The story was that Megatron was building an energy device in the area which Mirage had been patrolling. Mirage had been sceptical, arguing that anything the Decepticons set up would be closer to the now gutted laboratory. The last few days had confirmed this: for he had been over every part of this Primus forsaken location and found not a hint of Decepticon activity.

As he trudged along, Mirage mind went briefly to Prowl's response when he had made this suggestion:

. "… well I happen to disagree with your theory, Mirage. I find it oversimplistic and lacking in professional analysis …now would you kindly comply with my orders and patrol the designated area ..."

After a few feeble attempts, Mirage hadn't been bothered arguing further. If that was what the unimaginative tactician wanted then let him have his way - he'd go into the desert and stay there.

Not that he was enamoured of the place. A Primus forsaken wilderness, it had nothing to offer him, with his tastes. He was not like Hound in that way. He did, however, need space, and time to think. Isolated and mercifully lacking in human settlement and activities, the desert had presented the perfect venue. And it had been an opportunity to get out of the Ark, away from Prowl, away from Jazz, away from all of them.

At first, he'd liked the walking. He'd moved purposefully, finding a cathartic element in the rhythmic crunch of his footsteps in the sand. Familiar and strangely comforting, the motion was an anchor, somehow, to which his otherwise tumultuous mind was tentatively tethered.

After days of tramping, however, the therapeutic effects seemed to have worn off.

And finding nothing, there was no real reason for him to remain. But he could not bring himself to go back to the Ark. Not yet. Not whilst the question to which he had been seeking an answer remained painfully unanswered. He had to at least have one more think about it ... so he kept walking.

The question was simple:

_Why hadn't he ended it with the Seeker? _

The sand was suddenly thick and heavy under his feet. Feeling the heat and slowing his pace, Mirage sighed deeply. Eventually he stopped, and for the umpteenth time reflected on how their affair was, after all, utter madness.

There were, of course, the consequences which would ensue if various senior figures in their respective factions found out. The probable highly unpleasant nature of those went without saying. But that wasn't it. Mirage wasn't that bothered by the danger. In fact, being something of a rebel, he liked flirting with danger, his penchant for the not strictly approved of being part the reason he had been so attracted to the Seeker in the first place. If they did get caught, he would simply seek a way out of it, and he was pretty good at extricating himself from sticky situations. No, that was not the reason.

Then there was the fact that Skywarp had been highly instrumental in the attack on the Towers which had destroyed his home, and his vow of vengeance upon all the Seekers when he came with the Autobots to Earth. But that wasn't it. Many discussions on the subject and the Seeker's intense emotion had convinced Mirage of the sincerity of the Seeker's own sorrow at the loss, and the fact that he was simply following orders at the time, and he had long since forgiven him, loving him instead for the courage of his contrition. No, that was not the reason either.

No, it was more fundamental than that. For despite the things he had - surprisingly - found himself to have in common with Skywarp – their mutual taste for fine things, for a lifestyle free of encumbrances, for art, for beauty, not to mention that they were both entirely misunderstood and misinterpreted by their respective factions – _it simply could not work._ Skywarp was, whatever hidden qualities he may possess, a Decepticon. He was a warrior, for Primus sake! He_ liked_ fighting. And he _loved_ flying, and doing things with other fliers that Mirage couldn't possibly match. So no matter how many declarations of undying love he made – and there had been many – and how often he vowed to take care of Mirage forever, and to never let him go – which he did every time he saw him - it simply could not be.

Mirage recommenced his trudging, feeling the sand churn beneath his feet. The sun beat down, and it continued to be heavy going, but he did not consider an alternative to walking. This sand played havoc with his alt form and every time Mirage had tried to utilize it he had ended up either hopelessly embedded or needing a complete steam clean and decontamination in Wheeljack's bay afterwards. There were great advantages in this place, he thought grimly, to being a flier and, as he did often, deeply envied the Seeker.

His mind went back to the Seeker. It wasn't just the essential differences between them. There was a nagging doubt forever present, a feeling that for all his words, the Seeker lacked credibility. Mirage didn't doubt that Skywarp _thought_ he meant what he said when he said it. He said it too passionately and sincerely to not do so. He was just not convinced that his romantic aspersions didn't result not from love but from the fact that Mirage remained illusive and unobtainable. And Mirage knew the power of yearning for the unobtainable. It was a somewhat hindering quality present within himself. He admitted, too, that he had kept things that way to keep the Seeker interested. Now, ironically, it was a stumbling block.

There were other reasons to doubt as well - the Seeker's philandering track record, for a start. And Mirage was sure he'd uttered all the same romantic-isms to his bond mate, and look at that, now. Mirage actually felt quite ill at the sight of Thundercracker on the battlefield, and not out of fear of the Seeker's arsenal of weaponry, which he was more than able to cope with; more because one look at his face made it brutally clear that whatever brave front he might be putting up out there, his spark was torn in two. Mirage had felt like that himself, and it was a constant pain to him that he was part the cause of it for somebody else – even if it was another Decepticon Seeker and what amounted effectively, to his "competition."

No – it was no good. The whole thing. Hound – the only one who knew about this insanity - and who although disliking it intensely, didn't judge it - was right. And Hound would be so much happier if he did the deed. Oh yes, he would. And Hound was, after all, his best friend, and had been in the picture far longer than the Seeker, and was, at least, on the same side as Mirage was supposed to be on. So, when he got back to the base, he would tell Hound what he had decided and then he would call Skywarp on the secret frequency and he would say ...

Mirage stopped again, feeling suddenly very alone. A gentle breeze came from nowhere, cooling him a little, and overhead two eagles wheeled in its currents. Looking at them, free and graceful in their movements, he grimaced. He would say – _nothing,_ in all probability. That was the reality. Because he had tried to say it all before and he had failed. Failed _abysmally_.

With a heavy spark, Mirage thought of the conversation via the secret com frequency which he had had with the Seeker before their last meeting. He had so carefully constructed the words:

"_I don't think we should see each other any more …. too dangerous … we know what would happen if they found out … one day when all this is over … things could be different … if this stands the test of time … we have to be strong about this …no, there's no question …._

And he had known how hard that would be, but he had honestly and truly intended to conclude with:

"…_my mind is made up, Skywarp! Don't contact me again …"_

Because he had thought about it all over and over and it really was the only way.

Mirage had left the secret channel open on the com so that he could say all that as soon as the Seeker inevitably called. So he could make the position clear straight away without allowing the Seeker the opportunity to change his mind. Then, the call had come in:

"Mirage - _it's me_ …"

Full of emotion and repressed need, the Seeker's voice had pierced Mirage's spark like a dart. So that instead of putting on an officious voice as he had intended and saying something like: "Yes, Skywarp, I'm aware that it is you, there is something that we need to discuss …" he had, instead, blurted out:

.:: Skywarp! Where are you? Primus, I've missed you ::. aware of the emotional content in his own voice which gave away the fact that what he had just told the Seeker was, in fact, absolutely true.

The com had crackled. .:: Yeah, you too ... I'm back at the base ... It's Kell ... I meant it when I said don't ever think about becoming a ''Con ...::. Then there were more crackles, and then: .:: I can't stop thinkin' about you, Mirage ...I'm goin' crazy here ::.

Mirage had felt weak throughout, touched by the Seeker in that way that only the Seeker could touch him and now beyond caring that this conversation was not going remotely how he'd intended. Intaking heavily, he'd whispered: .:: _Me too_ ::.

Then there had been a pause and next the Seeker had said, voice loaded with emotion .:: I really love you 'Raj ... _I have to see you_ ::.

Mirage's spark had surged and he had felt the heat spread though his circuits. His energon pressure rising rapidly, he had felt the reconfiguration sequence to interface mode invariably kick into initiation, so badly did he suddenly want the Seeker.

Saying what he had been going to say was now completely out of the question. Struggling, he'd managed to whisper: .::Usual routine?::.

There'd been a long drawn out sigh: _.::Yeah .... ::._

.:: _When?::. _he'd gasped, thinking it had better be soon because he really didn't think he could wait very long ...

The Seeker's intakes, clearly audible over the crackle, had only excited him further. Then Skywarp had gasped: .::Well – Oh Raj ... Kell ... how about like - _now!::._

And it had been fortunate, oh so fortunate that he was just leaving the Ark anyway; even more so that he would be passing their usual rendezvous point – the point at which Skywarp appeared out of the void, gathered him and then they both disappeared into the darkness and the silence before emerging, moments later, at the cave and rockpool, far away from here, which was the venue for their illicit affair. Mirage had said, throbbing within, struggling to keep his composure, his vocaliser thick with desire: _.:: OK …give me about thirty Earth mins ….::_

Mirage stood there in the desert, feeling a heaviness creep over him. This was where he had come unstuck every time since he had been out here. The moment it got to - _that last time_. It had been so - _intense_ that time. Just thinking about it was altering his ability to function, making him feel sluggish and want to just collapse in the sand and play the sequences over and over in his mind. He closed his eyes, and let out a deep sigh.

_They had made love again and again…._

It seemed that after every ecstatic overload there were only a few seconds recovery and then they wanted each other all over again … .... more and more and more every time ….

Mirage needed to sit down. Apart from anything else, he was overheated and underenergised from the heat of the sun and the counteractive measures which automatically activated in such circumstances were becoming less and less effective. But that wasn't all. _It _was happening again. Looking around, Mirage spied a large flat rock under a cliff overhang in the shade. Making his way over to it, he sat down heavily.

Taking deep intakes of the cooler air, he closed his optics and, resigning himself, lay back on the rock and left the blue sky and the sun and the desert behind, not able to prevent his mind from drifting to the cave....

_The Seeker was wrapped around him, warm and protecting, one wing spread across them both like a blanket. Strong arms enfolded him, sweet breath brushed his neck as the Seeker's intakes gently sighed in rhythm. All around it was cool and dim and the musty, faintly metallic smell of the cave combined with a faint aroma of jet fuel hung in the air. There were other sounds: the pall of soft rain falling, of water trickling, the sigh of the wind, the distant sound of birds calling. Beneath them, the floor was cool and moist and comforting. Mirage shut his optics and drowned in the sensations; he shifted, snuggling closer and the Seeker drew him in and he felt his soft lips nuzzle the back of his neck ..._

Somewhere overhead, a bird cried out and another answered. The sun was slightly lower on the horizon, and the temperature had cooled. Mirage shifted on the hard surface of the rock, thinking of the cave floor, remembering the feel of the Seeker acutely and relishing it and missing him now beyond belief. He sighed deeply as his mind continued to wander over the events.

_They were both restless, hardening in interface reconfiguration, feverishly rearranging themselves, both making little noises of acute need, the Seeker positioning over him, covering him. Then the Seeker's hands were cupping his face, and his open mouth was upon Mirage's, hungrily exploring, pressing, his tongue hot and probing. He bore down, body hard, his arousal intense; his wings folded over them like a canopy which blotted out the light. Mirage grabbed his wrists and kissed back, reaching, squirming; then clutching at his wings as he felt himself open up. He cried out, aching for the Seeker to come into him. Above him the Seeker rose up, all majesty and power and fierce beauty. Wings flared, optics burning intensely, face an exquisite mix of agony and ecstasy, he bore down on Mirage with a guttural roar. ... _

Mirage closed his eyes and groaned, unable to avoid the reconfiguration which was now happening on this rock in the desert, or the urgent need for release which suddenly engulfed him. He rolled over and pressed himself into the rock. His hips ground involuntarily. _This_ was why he couldn't leave the Seeker. Just thinking about him meant stopping and doing – this. And it wouldn't take long ...

_The connection was home, Mirage gasped and arched up to take him in, wanting all of him. The Seeker's optics were on fire with lust, his rigid body quivered and throbbed as he downloaded data into Mirage in rhythmic thrusts. Mirage's optics shuttered, lids fluttering. Images of skimming low and at great speed over exquisite landscapes, a cool, wild wind in his face, bathed him and he mouthed formless words, whimpering for more. He felt the Seeker's mouth hungry against his again, felt him reach down, felt his thigh caressed softly, felt the Seeker's desperate need as he wrapped his legs around him, heard him whisper .... M-i-r-a-g-e ... before he reared again, flared his wings, gathered himself and thrust deeper ..._

Mirage groaned and bore down on the rock, feeling the friction, feeling the energy start to build, knowing release was coming and needing maximum satiation, magnifying the imagery to make the experience as forceful as possible..

_... the Seekers' wings stiff and flared above, the connection throbbing wildly, Mirage's spark surged as more data gushed forth, and in his mind they soared upwards, the sheer acceleration and raw power leaving him breathless and aching. He thrust against the Seeker again, screaming at him, desperate, forcing the Seeker's connection in deep, deep, deeper ... into the depths of his being ..._

Mirage moaned and pressed himself down hard, shaking, shuddering, mercifully, close now ....

_The Seeker was filling him with the connection, he could feel nothing but that and the data flowing like a hot tide. He threw his arms around the Seeker's neck and the Seeker gathered him up, holding him, pressing him hard to him and he whimpered anew, bursting, in agony of wanting, his whole body begging for release; then the connection started to pulse in rhythmic bursts and the Seeker cried out and lunged, biting hard into his neck, wings stiffening, his body, rigid as a rock as the energy roared out of him, flooding into Mirage; and Mirage clutched hard at him, feeling metal crumble beneath his fingers, crying in ecstasy seconds before he exploded and the universe erupted into a myriad of particles which scattered and danced in a purple and blue haze ..._

Mirage lay panting on his side as the sun sank towards the horizon, dizzy from the force of the overload, physical relief washing over him but suddenly consumed with emotion out of want for the real thing and need for the Seeker's body wrapped around him like it always was in reality afterwards. He wanted to be entwined with Skywarp under the clear waterfall near the cave with the icy mountain water cascading down, droplets sparkling and bouncing off them, a sound like bells, water trickling through joints and circuitry as they kissed and kissed and kissed, not in the fury of lust this time but in the beauty of post coitus and love.

He wanted the Seeker holding his hands with that gentleness and firmness which signalled to him that the Seeker wanted him, Mirage, for ever and ever and he would never, ever let him go. He wanted him here, now, so he could cling to him and not to some parched rock in the desert which had been the only way in this wilderness to deal with his unrequited passion.

Primus, this was _HOPELESS!_ How could he possibly leave him when it was like this? It was a JOKE!

The last time this had happened, he had cried like a sparkling. But there was nothing to be gained from doing that now.

The recognition of that seemed to Mirage like some progress. And suddenly he was forced to admit the inevitable. There was no resisting this, no fighting it; whatever it was that he and the Seeker had set in motion that day they had first kissed in the rain – when Cybertron had been moved into Earth's orbit – was now bound for wherever it would go and there was no stopping it.

And it was availing him nothing to linger around out here now, pretending and avoiding the issue. He would go back to the Ark, report the lack of Decepticon activity.

Then, avoiding Hound, he would go to his quarters and think about the situation. Again.

And then? Mirage sighed. Then he would call the Seeker. It Skywarp didn't beat him to it.

The sun was on the horizon, the shadows long as Mirage started to walk again. From somewhere the two eagles reappeared, swooped, cried out to each other and swept away towards the sunset. Smiling for the first time in days, Mirage strode away purposefully and with a destination.

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_I am jealous of Mirage! _

_To be continued ..._

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	2. Chapter 2

**== Treacherous Liaisons ==**

**By Ayngel**

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_Disclaimer: I do not own transformers, or any of the characters or concepts within. I make no money from this story or any other about Transformers.

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Hound's role becomes very important in this story, which is why the time devoted to Mirage's first confession about his affair.

Alas Mirage has a penchant for the _bad boys_ ...

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_Warnings: Implied slash

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**Chapter ****2**

The sun had long set when Mirage returned to the Ark.

Reflecting, as usual, on the poor security measures which had allowed him to just wander straight in, Mirage headed for his quarters. He felt exhausted now, and in serious need of recharge, and despite his desperate desire to call the Seeker, he thought the need to go completely offline might just overcome the urge. At least for a few hours.

He would, he thought, transmit a report signifying the lack of Decepticon activity in the patrolled area when he reached the quarters. His failure to do this in person would probably attract criticism from Prowl - and a stern tut tutting from Ironhide - but as far as Mirage was concerned it would suffice. After all, there was nothing to report.

Squinting from the garish lighting in the corridor, Mirage quickened his pace, his footsteps echoing eerily off the metal walls. If the Decepticons were up to any shenanigans, he'd find out soon enough from the Seeker. Not that he'd blurt anything out straight away. When Skywarp told him things – as he did very, very often - Mirage was always most cautious with his use of the information, knowing that to be otherwise could land the Seeker in serious trouble, especially given that certain other members of that faction did, in fact, know about their association and took no action in the hope that he, Mirage, would join their Cause.

Not that the opportunity for that had never existed. There were those among the 'Cons who had courted Mirage quite actively during the war in the times when he allied himself with neither faction. Mirage had always derived satisfaction from snubbing them on principle, after what the Seeker squadrons did to the Towers. Recently, however, he had come to view the Seekers from a new perspective and, in his weaker moments of desperate wanting to be with Skywarp, he had found himself considering the possibility. Just the _possibility._ But the Seeker would have none of it.

"Are you outta your fraggin' mind? No Mirage, you don't wanna be a 'Con! You think its bad with the bots? Let's see – the base is a pithole. Megatron wants the impossible and Screamer's losin' it. You'd have Soundwave in your circuits, that cat creeping around, Frenzy driving you nuts and as for TC – well he 'd probably kill ya. Besides which, right now the Cause is goin' _fraggin' nowhere_. So it ain't an option, little Alpha!"

Smiling to himself at the term of endearment used by the Seeker – something which he would never have allowed anyone else to call him – Mirage rounded the last corner - and nearly ran headlong into Hound.

"Hey!" said the Tracker, pulling up short. He beamed. "Welcome back! Don't you believe in announcing your presence? Or have you been …." His face fell. "Oh, I understand…."

Composing himself, Mirage smiled fondly, relieved that it was Hound and not certain others. "No, I haven't as it happens Hound" he said. He thought _well, not in the realm of physical reality, anyway._ "I'm just really tired. It was a pretty big area out there to cover..." and then seeing the quizzical look on the Tracker's face, he said "I intend reporting my absolutely nonexistent findings by transmission."

Hound look relieved. Then a look of concern appeared on his kindly face. "Just be a bit careful, Raj. Cliffjumper's fritzed. He reckons he saw something out there that you missed."

Mirage leaned his tired self back against the wall and laughed softly. Jealous beyond belief of the intimacies he shared with Hound – even though these were purely platonic – the red minibot was always trying to better him. Besides, he never missed an opportunity to score a point. "Cliffjumper's always seeing things out there!" he said.

Hound still looked concerned. "Yeah, I know. But this time – he was pretty wound up …"

Mirage laughed again. He looked at Hound mischievously. "Well that's probably not on account of anything he saw in the desert, is it Hound!" The Tracker and the minibot had, to everybody's astonishment, conducted quite a passionate association whilst here on Earth. The Tracker had ended it recently and returned to his bondmate, Trailbreaker – much to the chagrin of the minibot, who had not taken the rejection lightly.

"Anyway … " Hound looked at him with a tenderness usually only seen between lovers. The failure to go down that path with Mirage had never been for want of desire on the Tracker's part, as Mirage well knew. He laid a hand on his arm. "Just be careful, love, all right?"

As usual when that look manifested itself, Mirage took steps to avoid it. Moving away from the wall, he said: "I'll see you tomorrow…"

The Tracker looked rueful. "Actually, you won't," he said. "I'm – er – off on my own little mission. Trailbreaker and I. We're going to that continent in the south – Australia, they call it. It's got a lot of open spaces. Prime reckons Breaker and I will be best for the job. Besides which …" he lowered his voice, "I – er – I owe it to Breaker".

Mirage nodded, suddenly disappointed because Hound was his friend and – well, Hound did _know._ And it was lonely on the Ark without him. He tried to sound nonchalant. "Oh well. Enjoy …"

The Tracker looked tenderly again, the affection in his optics undisguised. "Mirage – be careful. And you know what I mean…."

"I'm always careful, Hound!"

The Tracker was still looking at him and Mirage could not avoid his gaze. "Is it worth it?" he asked softly.

Mirage looked at him and nodded slowly. "Yes Hound," he said. "It is."

Hound gave him another long and hard stare, and sighed. "I can see there's no deviating you from this course of wholesale madness. As I said before, I'll be around to pick up the pieces. Then he leaned closer and gave Mirage the softest peck on the cheek. He whispered: "But be warned - I'm not very good at reassembly …".

== o0o ==

His report complete and sent, Mirage turned off the transmitter and lay back on the berth. Whether to call the Seeker. No, he would do it tomorrow. He could not possibly leave here tonight anyway and the sound of Skywarp's voice would just send him into an agony of wanting.

The quarters were very quiet. In the distance, Mirage heard something bang and a noise of laughter. He lay back on his berth and instead of yearning after the Seeker, thought instead of the Tracker charging across some Primus forsaken region of the southern continent, loving it, chatting eagerly to his bondmate who, Mirage knew, had wept tears of joy at their reconciliation.

So much those two loved this world. Something Mirage would never understand.

Sighing, Mirage settled himself on the berth. Solid, beautiful Hound. Despite the presence of the long suffering Trailbreaker, Mirage knew the Tracker had been in love with him for as long as he could remember - and to no avail whatsoever. But he was always there regardless, ready to help, asking nothing in return and only wanting Mirage to be happy – even though that invariably meant a partnership with somebody other than himself. Mirage thought then how much easier it would have been to just love the Tracker back, instead of the tempestuous drama he'd lumbered himself with. For not only was the situation difficult, he reminded himself, the Seeker could be equally difficult, as Mirage had found out, and they'd had more than one "separation" during the course of their association.

That, however, he reflected grimly, was part of the attraction. He'd always been drawn to the controversial, the difficult, the devious. It had been just the same with Jazz, and many of his other lovers before that. Hound was just too –_ nice_. Too _safe._ Too compliant. Too willing to spring up and meet his every need without question. Whereas with Skywarp – well – quite apart from the enemy factor - his very essence was volatile, exciting and dangerous. And there was a definite line in the sand with Skywarp. The Seeker loved him – but he would never have allowed himself to be taken advantage of. He was also insanely jealous, and there were other things he lost his rag over. Mirage was careful not to push him. Finding out how far he could go had been, however, overwhelmingly seductive.

Mirage thought of the Tracker again. Thinking of how much Hound detested his affair with the Seeker made him feel slightly guilty. He thought about the first time he told Hound about the affair. Hound had been far from impressed. In fact, it was one of the few things he'd ever divulged which the Tracker had not bounded with enthusiasm about.

It had been after that fight between Prime and Megatron, the so called "Heavy Metal War" – as it had come to be called – when he'd thought he and the Seeker would be parted forever, and then they weren't, and the aftermath had led to their most passionate encounter thus far, and the first time he'd told Skywarp he loved him. He'd felt an overwhelming need to share the desperate feelings he was experiencing. So he'd sought out Hound, feeling bereft and wretched in his predicament, and knowing Hound wasn't even going to _approve _of it – but that he just must tell him anyway even though - when you looked at it like that - there was no real reason why.

He remembered it well.

"I'm having this … relationship…" he'd said, once he had ushered Hound into his quarters, shut the door and deactivated all monitoring devices.

Before, the Tracker had been having a few drinks in the rec room, recounting some victory or other on the battlefield as the Autobots seemed to have an irresistible penchant for. A delighted grin had spread slowly across his face. "Yeah?" he'd said, crossing to Mirage's personal cabinet and extracting two cubes of Premium, one of which he handed to Mirage. "Well that's great, Mirage! Real good. About time you got yerself a bit of aft. Here, we should …uh … celebrate..."

Snapping the seal on the cube, he'd raised it … "Here's to friendship, lust and overloads!" He took a sip. "Anyone I know?" He'd settled himself eagerly on the edge of the chair opposite to the one in which Mirage was sitting.

Mirage's spark had sank. This was not going to be as easy as he'd hoped. The Tracker was clearly not in one of his serious, _I understand you_ moods. Cube in hand, he'd looked ready, instead, to party. Mirage had almost seen his mind whirling in delight at the notion that he might be about to be told something that nobody else knew. Especially by himself.

"Hound … " he'd said, putting down his cube and trying to inject a note of urgency into his vocaliser which would signal to his friend that _this is not a laughing matter and I need you to listen, to help_, "…. this is … it's complicated …"

The message hadn't got through. Taking a swig from the cube, Hound had laughed "So? What's new? It generally is when you've got a new object of desire!"

Pausing, and sucking in a deep intake of air, Mirage had tried again, "_No Hound_," he'd said, patiently, looking directly at the Tracker, "you don't understand. This is … _very _complicated."

The Tracker had looked back at him for a moment with a more serious expression. "Hmmmn … you've certainly kept it quiet …," he'd mused, regarding the cube in his hand and strumming his fingers on it. Then his face had lit up again. "I get it!" he'd exclaimed, adopting an expression of smug delight, the look of one who has managed to figure out a situation even though they were not thought capable of doing so. "The subject matter's attached to somebody else?!"

"Well, you could say that …" Mirage had said it without thinking and he immediately wished he hadn't. That wasn't the point.

Hound sat back in the chair. "Aha! Now let's see, who is it this time … one of that femme bonded lot who've decided they like mechs after all? Well, that wouldn't be a first would it …" The Tracker was having a ball.

"No," Mirage muttered, "no, nothing like that." He'd sipped at the cube for the first time then, wondering if he should cut this conversation short. Perhaps it had been a mistake. But no, he needed Hound to know about this; had to tell him somehow.

" …well who then? You're being exceptionally mysterious about this!" The Tracker had said, eyeing him suspiciously. He sat forward again. "Hey! You're not back with Jazz.. …?'

"_No!"_ Mirage had snapped, and then said more quietly: "No." He'd wished he could just come out with it - _wanted_ to just come out with it. _Why was Hound making this whole thing just so damned difficult?_

"Well _who_? Oh by Primus Mirage … please don't say … it isn't … surely not … it couldn't be …_Optimus Prime_?' and he'd burst into peals of laughter, spilling energon over the side of the cube. "I'm sorry Mirage!" he cackled, rising to get a cloth "but it isn't, is it?"

Inwardly Mirage had despaired. He just had not been able to believe how dense the Tracker was being about this. "Look'" he'd said, impatiently, "It isn't Prime or any of those others you mentioned. Now if I'm going to tell you anything at all, Hound – and frankly, I wish now I hadn't started this conversation - I need you to take this seriously. And I need you to promise that, whatever happens, you won't so much as utter a squeak to anyone else. _Especially_ Optimus Prime."

Returning and mopping up the spillage, The Tracker had stopped laughing and a look of feigned concern had manifested. "Well, sure, Mirage," he'd said, trying to keep a straight face. "You have to admit I've been pretty good at keeping secrets for you over the years …" he finished his mopping and, still crouched, picked up the cube and drained the remaining liquid. He cast a look at Mirage's mostly undrained cube on the table in front of him.

Mirage sucked in a deep intake of air. "Hound, look at me …_please_ …" Then he'd bent over and the Tracker had looked up and he'd looked him straight in the optics: "Hound … he … this …how can I say this … _it isn't one of us_." He'd paused, then, thinking that surely something would register and allowing the realization of the truth to set in.

A bemused look had appeared on the face of the Tracker. He rose slowly. "What do you mean?" He was silent, then, considering the possibilities. Then he gasped, looked at Mirage again and said "Oh by _Primu_s! Is it … like … you know … is it a _human?_" Then his face lit up. "Hey! That's something Mirage! Especially with your previous attitude …geez! Nobody else has …not even Bumblebee …"

Laughing and grinning more broadly than ever, he'd crossed to the cupboard and extracted another cube.

"No, not a human, Hound!" Mirage had been unable to keep the absolute exasperation out of his voice. "A mech from … _the other faction._ Do you get it, Hound? _One of our_ _enemies_."

There was a deathly silence. Poised midway between the cabinet and the chair, Hound's jaw had dropped and he'd simply stared at him, the unopened cube in his hand.

Eventually, he'd said weakly: "What, you mean a D …"

"_Yes, Hound, I mean a D…!" _Mirage had snapped, annoyed and disappointed now about the way this conversation was turning out. He had expected a greater level of understanding from the Tracker than this, even if he was now more than a little inebriated. So when Hound had said nothing and continued to stare at him, apparently lost for words, he'd got up angrily and turned away.

Turning back, he snapped: "It does happen you know! We may be on opposite sides but we're all basically built the same and they've got the same wants and desires that we have!"

Hound continued to stare at him, his expression still one of utter astonishment. "Ok …" he said, eventually, slowly. _"Which One?"_

Mirage had hesitated. Then he had said it. "Skywarp."

The Tracker had nearly dropped his cube. His optics had widened and he had stared at him incredulously whilst Mirage's spark sank and inwardly he pleaded with him to listen, to understand, to help him through this. ..

But instead, Hound had sat down, his mouth breaking into another of his rapacious grins. "Primus! Hahaha" he had laughed to himself, and then he had looked at Mirage again in undisguised amusement. "You have to be kidding …" he'd said " you have to be … hahahah … oh yeah, right!" Then, unable to contain himself, he'd started to giggle helplessly, and then, to Mirage's horror and dismay, he fell into a full fit of helpless mirth.

"Oh please …." he gasped, "…that's a …_ha ha ha_ …. that's a good one Mirage!_ Ha ha ha ha ha _…. hey! You had me there."

"_Hound!"_ said Mirage in desperation. "_Listen to me_ …"

The tracker burst into a fresh round of hysterical cackles. "That's just so funny Mirage! Ahaha ha ha ha! I've got this mental picture of … _oh ha ha ha ha_ …."

Mirage had been overwhelmed by furious disappointment. Heat rising internally, he'd felt his optics burning. He'd flung himself on to the side of the berth, and then he'd burst into tears.

There were a few more peals which petered out with a hollow sound and then the laughter ceased abruptly. There was silence for a few moments and Mirage had just sat and cried ...

And then he had become conscious of the Tracker beside him, and the gentle touch of a hand on his arm. "Mirage …."

"You don't understand Hound - it's true," he'd wailed, burying his face in his hands. "I don't know what to do. And I had to tell somebody … and … _sob_ …I thought I could tell you cos I trust you … _sob_ …"

"Mirage …" Hound had sat down next to him and taken his hand.

"I thought you'd understand….you of all of them …"

He heard the Tracker say. "_Primus_ …" to himself more than Mirage. Then he was conscious of his hand being gently squeezed. He had turned and looked up and seen that his friend was not laughing any more. Not at all. His expression was now deadly serious, his face a mixture of shock and concern and disbelief. He'd looked at a loss for words. Then he'd looked into Mirage's optics with such a horrified lack of comprehension that Mirage's spark had given a jolt, and he'd looked away again.

"This is …. _for real_ … ain't it?" he'd heard him whisper.

"Yes ..." Mirage had avoided his gaze.

He had felt the Tracker's optics still upon him. "How long …"

"A while …."

There was another uncomfortable silence, and then the Tracker said: "Where do you …"

"We go places. He's a teleporter, Hound. Remember?". He'd looked up at his friend, conscious that tears were trickling down his cheeks and making no attempt to stop them.

Hound's optics had met his and then he'd got up and turned away, shaking his head.

There was another silence, and then he'd turned back and Mirage could feel his optics questioning. _ "_In the name of Primus, Mirage_. Why?"_

Mirage had hesitated, unable to meet the Tracker's gaze. "I love him."

The Tracker's intakes had exploded in a choking sound "_What?" _He looked incredulous.

"Look I didn't ask for this to happen!" Mirage had burst out, getting up, unable to bear the look of abject horror which he now saw had manifested on the Tracker's face. He had trusted Hound and now Hound was judging him, just as any of the others would have done.

"…sometimes these things just … " he'd gibbered " ... it's not how you think it is, Hound! He's not … they don't … you don't …he's different from how he is out there …he's…."

_Wonderful, beautiful, amazing_ he'd wanted to say but, instead, he'd cried again. The Tracker had risen then and crossed to the other side of the room, where he stood staring at the computer console, his back to Mirage, arms folded. There was a long silence, punctuated only by the sound of his own choked sobs, which gradually subsided. Then, turning, Hound had let out a long sigh.

"Mirage, I know the 'bots aren't exactly your most favorite folks, and you're certainly not theirs. I also know that you've been through kell since you've been here. Don't you think this might have just a little bit to do with all of that?"

Mirage grabbed a cloth from beside the berth and wiped the fluid away from under his optics. "It isn't," he'd muttered. "This is just something … something I don't understand, so I don't expect you to either Hound. I just want you to …."

And then he'd cried again and the Tracker had come over and put his arms around him and they'd sat down again on the berth and he'd held him and then Mirage had cried against him, and then after a while he'd felt happier because, really, that was all he had wanted in the first place - not an analytical session about the merits or otherwise of the situation which, Primus alone knew, were glaringly obvious.

Eventually the tears had receded.

"Surely you must realize the implications of this, Mirage…you're playing with fire …"

"I know ..."

"For Primus sake … if you must pursue this madness …be careful …"

Then they had looked at each other and there had been great sadness in the Tracker's eyes and somehow Mirage had found that more distressing than any other aspect of the situation so far.

................

Mirage sighed. He was starting to feel sleepy now. He remembered how, after the outburst, he had felt relieved, as though a burden had been lifted. Yet, he reflected now, he hadn't entered into a continual consultation process with his friend about the progress of his relationship with the Seeker.

_Skywarp._ Mirage's mind left Hound and went inevitably to the Seeker, as it always had been going to do. Missing him now, his intakes let out a deep sigh. He imagined the strong arms surrounding him, the hardness of the Seeker's body, the cool of the cave, water trickling softly and the tantalizing scent of aerodynamic alloys and jet fuel. Shuttering his optics, Mirage let out the anguished sigh of one needing to the point of desperation to have what he could not have.

But there was something else …

Unshuttering his optics, he sat up and then, leaning over, opened a drawer in the locker beside the berth and took out a palm sized object. Pausing for a moment, he stared at it lovingly as one would a cherished possession. It was a special rank silver Decepticon insignia, one previously worn by Skywarp. It had been a gift from the Seeker, one to which Mirage had responded by giving Skywarp the Celestine Sapphire, one of the sole surviving relics from the crystal garden at his place in the Towers.

_"Well I gotta give you somethin' to make you think of me when you're in that pit-hole …_"

_"Likewise ..."_

Closing the drawer and curling on to his side, Mirage shuttered his optics, hugging the insignia to his chest. No. he hadn't told Hound any details at all recently. Hadn't told him how the meetings with Skywarp were getting longer, fierier, more impassioned and harder to end. Hadn't told him how obsessed the Seeker was with him and he with the Seeker, or about his increasingly lame excuses to leave the Ark, the frantic sessions, the lies when he returned and the terrible fear he had started to feel that every time he left Skywarp, that this time would be the last.

And he wouldn't. Because Hound didn't like it. He was sympathetic, always said the sort of things he'd said earlier tonight, but still it remained, largely, as far as any further details were concerned, _the unmentioned subject._

At the end of the day there was nobody he could really confide in. Only the Seeker himself.

Clutching the beloved insignia to him, Mirage closed his optics and murmured softly, imagining himself in the arms of the Seeker. With that last thought, he drifted offline and almost immediately into a state of deep recharge.

_**To be continued**_...

* * *

_Hey! I got Australia into a TF fic! Well I always reckoned Hound would love this place …"The Tracker Down Under …"_

_Insecticons next. Evil little ****s. Love 'em! I can almost guarantee this story – and it's sequel – are not what anyone is expecting!!!_

_Thank you for reading. A :-)_


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